


Good Enough

by Friendly Neighborhood FMA Angst Queen (deductively)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization, M/M, Maes Hughes Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 02:17:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13514655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deductively/pseuds/Friendly%20Neighborhood%20FMA%20Angst%20Queen
Summary: "I don't want to be vulnerable,and I swore I would never be...but then you noticed me."





	Good Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moistang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moistang/gifts).



"Maes . . . ?"

My name was whispered in disbelief.  Roy approached me with a wonderstruck gaze, his fingers trailing along my oxygen mask before reaching my cheek.  His hands were freezing, but smooth against my skin.  A small smile curled upon my lips, and I met his eyes, reaching up to feel his face.  Just like when he'd touched me, when his hand glided along my cheek, his clean-shaven face was warm and satin soft.  I closed my eyes, letting the smell of embers drown out all of my feelings, all of my worries.   _I'm okay._

Roy let out a choked breath before a delighted beam grew on his face and his eyes caught a happy light.  "I should've known.  I should've known better than to think something like that would kill you, huh?"  Tears began to spill from his eyes, and he took in a hard breath.  "I really did think you were dead, but I knew I should've . . . I knew I . . ."

He had an interesting way of showing emotion.  His walls would be built, reinforced, and locked from the inside.  Not even his eyes would reveal so much as a glimpse of what he was really thinking.  But some things cracked the dam he'd so carefully constructed, and once it was damaged, it was bound to burst.  Rare as it was, it was beautiful in an odd, melancholy way.  I could tell that this dam had been slowly weakening, that all else had been water pressure wearing away at it but this was the wrecking ball that caused his eyes to flood, his body to crumple against mine as ocean water rushed from his lungs in painful sobs.  I'd seen him leak before; this wasn't it, not even close.  No, I'd completely destroyed him, just by . . .  _being_.  When I wrapped my arms around him, even as I rubbed his back and whispered comfort in his ear, I felt like I was trying to put a Band-Aid on the concrete to patch it up.  But the gradual slowing of his breath made the corner of my lips turn up ever so slightly.   _Even if it's something small, it's good enough for now._  I couldn't hold it forever, but it was okay.

"For now".  It was a common theme between us.  "For now" and "good enough".  It was all we'd ever known.  For now, I would cradle his bleeding heart in my trembling hands, and it was good enough.  During the Ishvalan Civil War, when I first had to take him in my embrace as his walls crumbled, we came to a silent agreement:  _For now, this love will last.  And that will be good enough._

It had lasted such a short time.  Moments until today, when the fire was set ablaze again.  And it was the most happy I'd felt since I woke up from that God-forsaken coma.

"Maes . . ."  Roy pushed himself up, his eyes meeting mine again.  "I missed you so much, Maes, I thought I'd ever see you again."  He averted his eyes and bit his lip.  "I thought I'd lost my chance to tell you everything.  But now I have one more chance . . . thank God, I have another chance."  He chuckled, and I felt a tear drip onto my cheek, rolling along my skin.  He swiped at his eyes, scoffing.  "Look at me.  It's raining again, and you're caught in it."

"Should've brought an umbrella."  I grinned in spite of myself, and he laughed.  I'd never heard it before, such a soft, loving laugh with not so much as a hint of sarcasm.  It felt like I was seeing him happy for this first time.  His forehead rested against mine, more tears sliding onto my face.  "I love the rain, did you know that?  And I never get to stand in it with you because you don't want your flame to be extinguished, right?"

Roy chuckled again, that genuine laugh.  "Maes . . . I didn't want to tell you this, I never wanted to tell you this because I didn't want to get in the way, but I—"

"I know."

His breath caught in his throat, and doubt darkened his expression.  If not for the circumstance, I would've brushed it off, told him I was joking and ended it there, just to alleviate his suspicion.  But no, not this time.  Removing my oxygen mask, I ran my fingers through his dark hair and slid my free arm around his waist.  "I know, and . . . and I'm sorry."

The moment our lips touched, the world vanished instantly.  My eyes fell closed, and all I could feel was him.  His warmth, his touch, his being.  It was agony, knowing that this was the first, last, and only time that we could share this experience.  My heart ached when his hands cupped my cheeks and pulled me towards him, taking in this final embrace, this kiss of death.  My whole body craved more, craved  _him_ , but it couldn't last.  It was just for now, and I couldn't take it.  Soon I could feel tears stinging in my eyes, and when he pulled away for air, I pulled him back in.  I was intoxicated—I was intoxicating him, but it didn't matter.  Nothing would matter after this.

I'd never had anything that was this "good enough".

Finally, his lips fell away from mine.  Our shared breaths were heavy and hot, and Roy's cheeks had turned a flustered shade of scarlet.  Another thing I'd seen once and could never see again, another singular instance of catharsis.

"Maes . . ."  Roy smiled.  It didn't reach his eyes now.  "Maes, God, I . . . I'm so sorry.  I'm sorry it has to end like this.  I love you, I love you so much, okay?"  His eyes slowly lost their luster, glazing over as his smile widened.  When he noticed my shock, he closed his eyes and shook his head.  "Goodbye, Maes.  Please take care of everyone for me when you wake up.  I love you."

 

_When I wake up?_

 

It was the last thought I had when my eyes opened and I sat bolt upright in bed.  My face was wet with tears.  My tears.  From my eyes.

No.  I knew it was real.  I  _saw_ him.

"Oh, good.  You're up."  The soft voice managed to startle me, but when I turned to it, it was just Riza Hawkeye kneeling at my bedside with a smile.  "How are you feeling?"

Feelings were not real, as far as I was concerned.  "Fine," I managed in a strangled voice.  I hissed at the pain in my stomach.   _Right,_ I thought grimly, staring at the bandages around my torso.   _I was shot in that phone booth.  Still healing._   "Where's Roy?"

Her expression darkened instantly, and I wished I could take back the question.  She became interested in fidgeting with her hands, and I could see her lips moving as her eyes darted about the room.  My stomach dropped somewhere south of my feet—Riza wasn't bad at keeping secrets until you were too close to exposing it.  And something told me I was hitting rather close to home.

Riza mumbled something incoherent.  Her chin was dropped to her chest so her bangs covered her eyes.

I could feel the heat rising into my face.  "What?"

She repeated it at the same volume, if not quieter.  My throat went dry, and my fists clenched as if around her throat.  "Damn it, Riza," I snarled, barely recognizing my own voice.  "Damn it, why can't you just tell me where he is?  Where is Roy, I just saw him!  Where is he?"  My eyes stung with tears, and I lunged at her and shook her shoulders, glaring at her without any regard for the fear in her eyes at my outburst.  " _WHERE IS HE?!_ "

Suddenly, Riza pushed me off of her and nearly sent me tumbling over the other side of my bed.  "He's  _dead,_ Maes!  He's been dead for a month, but you were too busy in your stupid God damned coma to realize that, weren't you?"

The realization hit me so hard I couldn't even wince at the latter of her harsh words.  The world around me distorted and fell away again, but now I was alone in a void, chill bumps forming on my bare skin.  The fact coiled around my body, strangled me, disabled my movement.  I tried to wrap my head around it, but it was wrapping around me instead.  "But," I choked out, staring at my hands, "I just saw him, Riza, I . . . I heard him.  I touched him.  I  _smelled_ him, for God's sake, you can't tell me none of that was real.  It had to be.  He was there, where you were sitting, and we . . ."

When she saw that the rest of the words were blocked by the lump in my throat, she sighed.  "I'm sorry, Maes."  She gripped the fabric of her pants.  "I didn't believe it either, and I started having these . . . vivid dreams about him.  But they were more than that, you know?  I could still feel his hand on my head when I woke up, so I talked to Dr. Knox about it."

She went into an explanation of "sleep hallucinations", and told me that mine were hypnonomic—they occurred as I was waking up.  Then she told me that Roy had visited me every day the moment he found out I was alive, and always apologized for something that he'd never said and that he'd never get to say.  Apparently he was set to be executed soon after the Promised Day.  He was promoted to General, and the last thing he said to her was, with a smile, "Look at that.  I got promoted past Maes.  I hope I get to rub it in his face if I see him again."  The day after, they'd found him in his office, face down on his desk, his papers drenched in blood.  A tainted push knife _—_ _one of mine_ —was found on the floor by his chair.  His jugular vein had been slit, according to Dr. Knox, and all the evidence pointed to it being a self-inflicted wound.

"He also left this for you," she added, pulling a small folded slip of paper from her pocket and holding it out to me.  "I didn't tell the military police about it because I didn't want them to read it.  It's meant for you."

I eyed it like it was a lit stick of dynamite.  "Did you read it?"

Riza shook her head.  "It's meant for you," she said again, "so I wanted to respect his wishes."

My hand trembled as I took the note.  There was a small blood stain on it, but it was otherwise intact.  My name was written in script, so beautifully that I thought for a moment it couldn't be his.  To my knowledge, he didn't know calligraphy.  But the body of the letter was written hastily in his normal handwriting, and I ran my finger over it, subconsciously hoping that it'd bring him back.

My heart wrenched in my chest.

 

_To Maes:_

_When I found out you were alive, I didn't expect you to be awake.  In fact, you being in a coma was all the better.  Not that I didn't worry, but I could tell you things that you probably wouldn't remember.  Secrets that could stay between us until we died._

_I confessed to a lot while I was with you.  Even as I did, I got this feeling that you knew what I was going to say.  You knew I had feelings for you, and that I missed you holding me, and that_ yes _, I was and still am jealous of Gracia for taking such a wonderful lover from me (maybe not the latter, but you know now).  You've always had this way of seeing right through me, making me transparent even though I did my damnedest to make myself as opaque as I could.  It was really annoying, but it also kept me from exploding unnecessarily.  I guess I owe you a lot for keeping me from self-destructing, which is ironic, seeing as I'm about to have my head passed around in a basket to scare any heretics into submission in a week or so._

_This may be selfish, but seeing as I was going to die anyway, I thought it would've been better for you had I escaped an unwilling death.  Of course, I won't know now, but I know it'll hurt you either way.  I had to pick the lesser of two evils.  I chose to die, I was ready to do so.  I wasn't about to have my life ripped away from me like I thought yours would be.  I'm a horrible person, I know.  I only ever think of myself, never others.  It's disgusting, isn't it?_

_Ha, I know that's not what you're thinking at all.  You probably want to punch me in the face right about now, as a matter of fact, just for implying something like that.  It's my worst habit, that's what you'd tell me.  That's what you always told me._

_On my last visit—two days ago—I visited alone and told you everything.  I told you I loved you, I missed you, I couldn't take any of this anymore.  And I cried.  It felt so good to cry again, for real this time.  To let out all of the pain I held in for the sake of my subordinates and superiors.  It was raining again, and I caught you in it without an umbrella.  I'm sorry for that._

_Hopefully I don't have to see you again any time soon.  I'm not trying to find out you're dead again.  I killed too many people trying to find your murderer, but believe me, I'd do it again.  I'd fight God if I had to.  But for now, as long as you're alive and well, it's good enough for me._

_Goodbye, Maes.  Please take care of everyone for me when you wake up.  I love you._

_\- RM_

 

My body went completely numb.  The paper fluttered out of my hands, and I could barely perceive Riza picking it up and folding it without even a curious glance at its contents.  So many questions raced through my mind; they became incoherent and jumbled and their sheer magnitude made my head spin.

_Thank God, I have another chance._

That chance had been my last.  I cursed myself for not waking up sooner, for not _seeing the signs_ sooner.  His delighted smile from my sleep hallucination began to fill my brain, and before I could stop myself, I screamed.  I screamed because I wished it'd been real, I screamed because of his death, the way he took his life, the stupid smile he probably had on his face as he slashed his throat.  From somewhere far off, Riza pulled me into her embrace, and I thrashed against it as much as my body could allow before finally expending the last of my diminishing adrenaline and going limp in her arms, dissolving into choking breaths and weak sobs.

It was all I had left now.

And without him, it didn't seem good enough anymore.


End file.
